


Heavenly Hellfire

by DarkShadows93



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Dreams and Nightmares, Dreams vs. Reality, Episode Related, Fear of Death, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Loss of Control, M/M, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Panic Attacks, Prompt Fill, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Temporary Character Death, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadows93/pseuds/DarkShadows93
Summary: When Crowley sleeps, he doesn't dream. He is just suspended in darkness, clinging to the slightest memories of white downy feathers and a pair of blue eyes that seem endless.If and when he does dream, peaceful serenity turns into Hellfire forcing Crowley to watch the suffering of the one thing he was devoted to protect.Ineffable husbands fanfiction writers AO3 week 27: Nightmare
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85
Collections: Week 27: Nightmare





	Heavenly Hellfire

**Author's Note:**

> I regret nothing

Angels and Demons were notorious for not being able to sleep with their corporations. Angels, only because they could use the time doing more good than wasting it with their eyes shut. Aziraphale was a good example of that. He had spent numerous nights buried in a large book with a cup full of cocoa or tea. The times he would sleep was only because he was dragged to bed and the soft breaths and the warm tight coils of his bedmate hypnotically lulled him to sleep. A time where the stories he read rivaled all the peaceful, heavenly dreams of what he loved best. It always was the same. It always involved a serpent and an apple. 

Demons, on the other hand, didn't sleep because it was a haunting reminder that they were Fallen. Their dreams were full of chaos, burning wings, and hellfire. Death and destruction as their Heavenly Grace was torn from them, ripping to shreds as their golden blood turned to acid, slowly burning them from the inside out. They refused to be reminded of it, the dull pain of acid burning through them was just enough of a reminder to stay clear of it. Crowley was a bad example of it. Though he couldn't say that he was an ordinary demon. He refused to dream. He pushed all the memories of his Fall to the deepest unknown parts of his immortal mind. He was suspended in darkest, his true form clinging to the slightest memories of white downy feathers and a pair of blue eyes that seemed endless. Crowley would always awaken, coiled around one of the few things he held dear. Something he was devoted to never losing again. 

But this night was different. Different in a sense that the memories the demon Crowley tried so very hard to keep locked away finally burst free. The harsh memories of Hellfire seeping into the darkness, bleeding into slight memories of the one thing he held dear, the thing he was devoted to protecting. 

It brought him to the day of their botched executions, except Crowley stood to take witness through the eyes of Uriel. It was different because it wasn't him standing in place of his angel. The burning column of Hellfire heating his face, making his corporeal heart rush wildly as he watched panic bleed into his Angel's heavenly features. Crowley tried to talk, tried to soothe his angel but found himself mute, petrified in place. This couldn't be happening. 

Aziraphale wasn't supposed to be there. Crowley knew that. His angel was supposed to be in Hell in a bathtub full of Holy Water asking for a rubber duck and making Archangel Michael miracle him a towel. Why did this feel so real?

"Shut your fucking mouth and die already." Gabriel seethed setting the execution in motion. Crowley wanted to throw him in the Hellfire instead for the remark. He wanted to throw every last fucking angel who treated Aziraphale like yesterday's trash in the fire, watching them burn into ash as repentance for what they've done. But it didn't end like that. 

Crowley's eyes widened like saucers as he watched his angel be pushed into the flames. He felt the muted scream burn at his throat as his angel screamed in agony as the fire quickly tore into him. It was slow torture. The flames burning every aspect of him, all the way down to his true form. Pain wracked his body as Crowley watched as Aziraphale's wings, his beautiful white wings burst from his back to escape only to be set aflame. White flaming feathers flew from the Hellfire like ash from a forest fire. The scene before him was worse than witnessing his Fall for so many years.

The Demon Crowley felt helpless, unable to move as burning tears ran down his face. His mind screams for Aziraphale, screaming for his bonds to be free. He wished. He hoped. He prayed to be able to take control and save his angel. To find a way to tend to his wounds. But all he could do was watch as the fire-charred Aziraphale's precious skin, his cries nonexistent as his body seemed to crumble into ash. Crowley felt like dying as he stared at blue eyes he would get lost in for hours as they dulled, turning lifeless before ultimately fading away. 

_ Bastards! All of you! _ He screamed in agony in his mind.  _ You killed my angel! You fucking killed my angel!  _

It would be difficult to differentiate if it was a dream or reality at that point. The heat of Hellfire still burning his face, drying his invisible tears. His eyes burning into the amethyst of Gabriel's. 

"He got what he deserved. It should've been done eons ago."

Crowley released a serpentine hiss, his hands were finally free as he reached toward the Archangel's neck, ready to dig his claws into his flesh, ready to start a war for the wrong Heaven has done.

The demon Crowley awoke numb, his tears still burning at his cheeks as he stared up at the antique wooden ceiling of the bookshop. He released a quivered breath. The pain of the dream making him tremble. It was only a nightmare he reminded himself as he ran his fingers down his face. 

He expected Aziraphale to be there soothing him, running his fingers through his hair. But the bed was cold, lacking the heavenly presence. A breath became lodged in his throat as he sat up, seeing he was alone.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley called out, his feet slamming onto the bedroom floor. He tried to reason with himself, perhaps he had finished his current read or maybe he was peckish and wanted some biscuits. Crowley prayed that the silence from the upstairs flat was only because Aziraphale couldn't hear him. 

"Angel." The demon's voice cracked with emotion as he slithers from the room, running into the door frame. The nightmare was still fresh in his mind. 

"Dammit, Aziraphale!"

No. No. No. Crowley clenched his eyes shut, tugging at his auburn strands in desperation. The smell of brimstone and sulfur still lingered in the air. No! This couldn't be real. Aziraphale couldn't have been burned up in the Heavenly Hellfire. 

"Aziraphale!" He screamed nearly but tumbling down the narrow flight of stairs to the bookshop, "Aziraphale where are you?"

_ Please Go-no Sat-  _ **_someone_ ** _ tell me he's alright! _ Crowley felt his chest constrict, the air thick as he struggled to breathe. He felt himself grow smaller as his heart rushed in his ears. Acid tears burned once more, the pain indescribable as his voice croaked in his throat. Crowley's knee gave out, easing him to the ground as he clung to the door frame as a lifeline until he was nothing more than a serpent coiled up sobbing.

The demon didn't hear a set of shopping bags fall to the floor followed by a gasp in the doorway. He was so numb that he couldn't feel his scaled body being lifted from the floor. He didn't want to believe it when he felt the soothing heavenly presence ease him from his panic. Aziraphale was gone. The nightmare was real.

"Crowley…" a heavenly voice said breaking through the panic, two fingers running across his elongated body, "dearest, whatever did happen?"

"Angel?" The serpent breathed out his head raised, staring into endless blue eyes, "Asssssiraphale, issss that you?"

The Principality's brow furrowed, his fingers still running across the smooth obsidian scales, "Well, I certainly do hope so. Would you kindly explain why you're a snake in the middle of the bookshop sobbing?"

Aziraphale squeaked as Crowley coiled tightly around his body, almost in a death grip. The serpent hissed nearly sounding like a cry, his bifurcated tongue kissing his ear. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale's voice was soft, a mere whisper as he allowed the serpent to cry,"Tell me."

Crowley's body shifted back to his lanky human form, his legs still curled around him with no intention of letting go. He pressed a kiss to his Angel's lips, resting his head against his. Crowley closed his eyes as Aziraphale ran his hands down his back soothing him to near slumber, "Nothing, angel… it was just a nightmare."

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you've read? Don't forget to read, review, and kudos.
> 
> Want to chat? Follow me on tumblr @ darkshadows93


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